Monday's Child
by Towelket
Summary: A collection of short stories based on the poem "Monday's Child". All uke Prussia/Gilbert with different partners for each chapter as followed: France, Spain, Russia, Romano, Italy, Fritz, Germany. COMPLETE!
1. Monday's Child

**YAOI. FRANCE X PRUSSIA**

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Chapter One "Monday's Child is Fair of Face"

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"I'm suffering from beauty deficiency." Francis distorted his neatly shaped brows and let his sigh fall and roll away on the floor.

"Fwa?" Gilbert ripped off his gaze from the DS screen. Did he hear that right? Beauty deficiency? Not iron deficiency? After he let confusion swim in his eyes for a few seconds he returned to affectionate his entertainment device. Gilbert's hierarchy of importance clearly preferred defeating the last boss from Francis's idiot talk, Not that he could say much about other people. "That's very nice Francis." Gilbert responded his 'I-don't-really-give-a-damn' reply dryly.

"It's not nice!" Francis wailed. Oh what a pathetic face he displayed! "I've been deprived of beautiful objects recently! My eyes need recreation from the ugliness of all the hatred this world harbour!" The Frenchmen pressed his right hand on his heart and cocked his head in reverse, his back of his left hand dramatically covering his forehead.

"Uh-huh…" Gilbert rolled his eyes. What a drama queen. "And what do you want me to do? Eliminate hatred and fill the world with love and affection? Leave that to Jesus, stupid beard." Gilbert flicked the blonde's forehead with his finger, laying the DS aside. He was going nowhere with defeating the Great Onion King with all the distraction. He pulled his arm towards himself to retrieve his hand, but was sabotaged by Francis's fingers leashed around the German's pale wrist.

"I wouldn't ask as much." The French held Gilbert's hand, and dropped a soft dry kiss. Gilbert flinched, but did not lurch in horror as he was used to his friend's pretend gayness. Francis feeling up his butt was in fact becoming a daily basis to his dismay, although he did manage to give him a black eye when Francis attempted to access inside his pants without a ticket. "All I ask, is to offer your beauty for me to observe." Francis narrowed his eyes, his golden lashes casting a shadow on his set of cobalt.

Okay, this was becoming a bit awkward. Gilbert thought. That thought, was half a second. The other half of the second, was flooded with bewilderment as he discovered he was forced down on the solid flooring. His arm smacked the DS as he waved it around to find balance. The block skidded along the wooden floor and located itself about half way between the living room and the kitchen. Green light flickered as it protested its callous treatment. "What the fu-" Gilbert's dirty cry was discontinued, as Francis's index finger sealed his naughty lips.

"I still can't believe you used to be in a religious order." Francis scooped a few strands of Gilbert's albino hair and bit them gently. "Such dirty words… Where's the innocent Maria you used to be?"

"That was a long time ago. Don't look for purity or beauty in me now. I've changed." Gilbert spat. He had chosen to wield a sword, to taint his hands in blood to protect his people, his brother, himself. As much as he wished to kneel down before his lord pure and innocent, he did not regret the choice that granted him the power to retain the happiness of his loved ones.

"Gilbert." Francis grazed his lips along the albino's eyelid. A thread of silver trailed down from the scarlet stone along the snow-white skin and slid out of sight. "Gilbert…" Francis whispered a few centimetres above the German's mouth. Gilbert maintained the eye contact in between, protecting the silence. He could feel the warm breath on his lips.

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"Gilbert, you are beautiful."

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The scarlet eyes caught a glimpse the green light flicker three meters away, before it was pervaded with the cobalt he trusted.


	2. Tuesday's Child

**YAOI. SPAIN X PRUSSIA**

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Chapter Two : Tuesday's Child is Full of Grace

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Antonio had always observed Gilbert's movements. It wasn't his fault that his eyes naturally found the person that he liked. Making himself at home at the house of Beilschmidt, set of jade eyes traced the bare feet disappear in to the kitchen to fetch another bucket full of beer bottles. The bad touch trio usually had the three members, but Francis had to reluctantly excuse himself to comfort his golden caterpillar, aka Arthur. Apparently the British got shunned by that burger brain yet again. Gilbert's 'Engel' Ludwig was sightseeing in Italy, and so the only ones present in the residence were the Spanish, the Prussian and his four obedient pets. Gilbird and the dogs handled themselves quite well, Berlitz even letting the little ball of fluff perch itself on his head while their master entertained his guests. Genuine German pets, as Gilbert explained.

Anyway, back to Antonio and his stalkerish habits. "There's something about you," Antonio took a swig while the German flopped back on the couch. "That's different from anyone else."

"Huh?" Gilbert dropped his shoulders. What the hell was his friend on about?

"I'm not talking about your rare appearance… It's more like how you act… or should I say move?" The Spanish stabbed a bratwurst with his fork and sank his teeth in it. Juice flowed out of the meat and trickled down the utensil. "It's not as ragged, if you know what I mean." Antonio could sense something was different with Gilbert compared to that burger brain and the crazy British bastard. Even contrasting to himself, the aura that surrounded the albino was not ordinary. It was not beauty, it was not fear. What was it?

"Huh! That's easy! It's my awesomeness overflowing!" Gilbert cackled, ignoring the Latino snort. "And don't you dare compare me to that Kirkland. Gentlemen my ass, he has no manners!" He spun his fork between his fingers, and although that could not have been considered as the proper table manners, it was slick and clean, even a bit elegant.

"Hmmm… Maybe it's your manners…" Antonio took another bite off his sausage.

"Could be. Der alte Fritz did slam the manners into me." Gilbert chuckled, remembering his old king that he loved and still loves. Antonio almost sprayed his sausage all of the table as he imagined the old king taming a wild rabbit that bit every time you tried to pick it up. Quivering with laughter that he failed to conceal, Antonio was still not convinced. Manners would have contributed, without a doubt. But there was something else, something more spiritual. "What the hell are you pissing yourself at?" Gilbert frowned.

"It's just that… I thought you'd be more… mild when we first met. You were, the Deutscher Orden in any case."

"Sorry that I wasn't the little innocent girl that you hoped." Gilbert laughed dryly. He could just see the Spanish eyes widening in amaze as Antonio at that time completely believed Gilbert was a woman. "Well, it wasn't entirely your fault because I was called 'Maria' at that era."

"…" Antonio couldn't split his lips in a million years that he had seen Gilbert once before the Prussian pointed his lips to discover he was mistaken for a girl. Gilbert didn't know this, but Antonio had seen him sing for his lord in an abandoned church. The Spanish didn't realise at that time that the child was in fact 'The' Deutscher Orden. But he evidently remembers the crystal clear voice weave words of worship and love. Strays of light from the cracked stained galss decreased onto the child's pale skin and crisp autumn breeze made his silver white hair swim. It was love at first sight.

And then it just clicked. How could he miss something so obvious for all these centuries?

"What are you grinning at now, it's freaking me out." Gilbert shifted his body as far back as the sofa would allow.

"It's grace." Antonio spoke softly.

"What?" Gilbert narrowed his eyes.

"It's grace." He repeated, satisfied. "It was grace."

Grace was what this proud little creature was seeping out into the air.


	3. Wednesday's Child

**YAOI. RUSSIA X PRUSSIA.**

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Chapter Three : Wednesday's Child is Full of Woe

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Ivan was aware that Gilbert was tolerant to pain. But that wasn't the reason that prevented him from torturing the East. "Here you go, Gilbert-kun." Ivan set a mug of steaming hot coffee before the Prussian. To be precise, in front of the wall of papers and folders between Gilbert and himself.

"Danke." Gilbert reached for his battery without stopping his pen sliding along the papers or looking up at the Russian. Ivan slapped Gilbert's hand, causing the contents of the cup to slosh and splatter on the document. "Hey! What was that for!" Gilbert spat, naturally.

"You should have looked in the person's eyes if you really appreciated it." Ivan smirked coolly, enjoying watching his slave grit his teeth in mortification.

"You know I don't have time for such petty things. Whose fault do you think it is that I'm stuck in this desk for the last three days without any sleep!" Gilbert growled. His garnet eyes glowed with frustration above the dark rings. Ivan felt his heart skip a beat. How he loved to pester and annoy this man! He silently moved beside the sleep derived Prussian, his long cloak grazing against the wooden desk. Pushing off the mountain of documents onto the floor, Ivan sat on the desk full of authority. Wrapping his fingers around Gilbert's tie, Ivan yanked him forward. The coffee cup toppled over and spread on the table, infecting other important documents and papers. Before Gilbert could even protest, the two pairs of lips met, swallowing the German's cry. It was hardly a kiss. Their lips only slightly grazed passed each other, and was only a split second that Gilbert couldn't even feel the other man's temperature on his. The moment after that, Ivan fell on the floor, his landing cushioned by the documents he had knocked down before.

"You don't have to shove me away like that; I wouldn't even call it a kiss." Ivan smiled softly as paper danced around him against gravity without the help of air resistance. Ivan purposely strengthened the word 'kiss' as he was sure it was the last word the albino wanted to hear.

"…" Gilbert chose to maintain his silence. Wise choice, Ivan admitted although it was not as convincing as it could have been, because he did not miss Gilbert's ears deepen in red at a constant rate.

"And that's not the treatment you'd give to your master, am I right?" Ivan stood up, dusting off his clothes. Step by step he inched towards the captured, not forgetting to emphasise his echoing footsteps. Cupping the snow-white face with both of his hands, Ivan dropped his voice and whispered into the blushing ear. "What should I do with such a disobedient pet?" Ivan's mouth curled into a crescent as he watched the garnet eyes stain with fear. That look! It sent him shivers down his spine.

Gilbert on the other hand shut his eyes tight, preparing for the Russian's next move and his body concreted, waiting for the worst to come. But instead of the pain he was used to endure, he was left beyond confusion as Ivan ruffled his hair and pressed his lips against his pale forehead.

"You should get some sleep, I'll do the rest." Ivan smiled sweetly and escorted the befuddled Prussian out the office.

Ivan was aware that Gilbert was tolerant to pain. Closing the double doors behind him, he happily set off to pick out the unfortunate one of the Baltic three to finish the hell left in his office.

Ivan was aware that Gilbert was tolerant to pain. But Ivan was also aware that Gilbert was not tolerant to kindness.


	4. Thursday's Child

**YAOI. ROMANO X PRUSSIA**

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Chapter Four : Thursday's Child Has Far to Go

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Lovino was constantly thirsty.

"That's it, now add the warmed cream and mix." The Italian instructed, impressed by his lover's handy work. These delicate things were usually the German's forte, he recalled. Is there really a point in teaching this person how to cook?

"It's my first time making a truffle! Lucky me to have such an awesome tutor!" Gilbert grinned, laying the whisk down on the bench board. He scooped a finger of chocolate and cream then sucked it clean.

"Hey, that's for the ganache." Lovino pinched the albino's cheek, scolding the rather large child. Gilbert inflated his cheeks in disapproval, not knowing it shot an arrow through Lovino's heart each time he did so. "He's dangerous." The Italian thought, trying hard not to reveal his flutter to this adorable yet undefended creature. Lovino was always thirsty, thirsty for Gilbert.

Eyeing the grumbling German from the corner of his eyes, Lovino scooped two fingers full of the molten ganache and scraped it onto his tongue.

"Hey! How come you're allowed some!" Gilbert puffed his cheeks even more, protesting injustice.

"Because I'm the instructor and you are just a student." The Italian smirked, narrowing his olive eyes. Not swallowing the ganache in his mouth, he cupped Gilbert's face and stuck his tongue out. The chocolate had started to melt even more on his temperature, gleaming in lustre. Lovino snickered in the back of his throat as he watched Gilbert swallow his saliva. "Want it?" He dropped his tone low, inviting. "Come and get it."

The kitchen was silent except for the sound of watery slurps that dribbled out of their mouths. Drunken in their bitter sweet kiss, Lovino tangled Gilbert's tongue and sucked hard, enjoying the platinum eyelashes quiver in pleasure. He traced the back of Gilbert's teeth then licked the upper jaw, making most of everything the German had to offer like a starving beast. Gilbert was like a bottle of whisky, Lovino thought. You chugged it down to satisfy your thirst, worsening your thirst instead as the alcohol burned your throat sweetly. And as you go through bottle by bottle, the alcohol intoxicated your ability to think, dragging you into the pits of desire and insanity. He could never have enough, never replenish his thirst. Lovino remembered the time when he was still fighting to seize Gilbert's heart. He was so close, yet so far away. After years of Latino flirting and advances to his thick love, he had finally acquired the permission to hold the slender waist in his arms. Gilbert was good from far, but far from good.

Lovino reluctantly ended the kiss as Gilbert knocked his chest, complaining his lack of supply to his oxygen. Thin thread of silver bridge suspended between the two pairs of lips then snapped a second later. Supporting his unstable lover, Lovino questioned. "You're actually really good in the kitchen you know, why did you need me to teach you?"

"B- be- because…" Gilbert flustered, flushing crimson red.

"Yeah?" Lovino urged. Dangerous. He is too dangerous.

"Because… I wanted to cook together… but I couldn't say so…" So he asked Lovino to teach him instead. "Fwaa!" Gilbert cried as the blushing Italian glomped him hard.

"I'm no match to you." Lovino chuckled.

He was good from far, but far from good.

He was beyond brilliant!

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(Author's Notes - Yahhhh I finally did it / I actually described a t- t- tongue kiss! / I'm ashamed. But I don't regret it. ;_;)


	5. Friday's Child

**YAOI. ITALY X PRUSSIA **-Contains very mild violence and words 'rape', but no one get's raped.**  
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(AN. I cannot gurantee the Italian in this ss is accurate as I only used google translate. I am very sorry. **IMPORTANT**: Italy in this story is very out of character from the orignal webcomic, because I prefer him as being quite devious and confident as well as being pathetic like in the official. PS, HAPPY BIRTHDAY GILBERT FOR TOMORROW!)

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5. Friday's Child is Loving and Giving

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Gilbert froze in the dirty alleyway with appal. Snickering men drew a circle surrounding him, spinning guns in boast. Why didn't Gilbert notice this earlier? He sighed.

"You have quite a fair face, don't you beautiful?" One of the men jabbed his weapon below the Prussian's jaw, forcing him to make eye contact. The others whistled and sneered. Gilbert kept silent, feeling his heat being absorbed into the metal cylinder which now traced his left cheek. "Man you're skinny." The man positioned his empty hand on Gilbert's waist. "Too scared to even speak huh? You even act like a woman." The group burst into laughter. Gilbert on the other hand drew another big sigh. He was growing tired of these thugs sexually harassing him.

"What are you, gay?" He cackled. A second later he felt his left cheek burn as he was smashed to the concrete ground with the man's gun. Glass cut into his thighs and fingers, but he didn't mind. Centuries of battles and decades of torture made him quite tolerant to pain. Not that he was a masochist or anything. "A dumb gay." Gilbert licked his wounded hand. "Didn't anyone tell you that guns' are for shooting? Not beating? " He silently apologised for using the adjective 'gay' as an offence. He didn't have anything against homosexuals, and he couldn't say much as he was currently going out with a guy himself.

"You'll soon regret being so full of yourself." The mug spat out a third-rate line, his mouth twitching into a forced smile.

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Ten minutes ago-

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Gilbert weeded through the crowd, twisting his head right to left hoping to spot that one strand of curly brown hair. Saturday market in central Rome was a small festival. Every gap, niche and corners of the main street clustered with tienda, almost half of being food and delicatessen stalls. Aroma changed every step you took from sweet coconut cake to spicy curry filled buns. Fabric roofs of the stalls rioted in colour, ranging from khaki and venetian red to stripes of azure and cream. Expressions of shoppers and stall owners altered dizzyingly like girls changing clothes. Drunken in all the buzz and vibes, Gilbert searched for his adorable angel.

Shoved around by the bustling crowd, he bumped into a man a bit taller than him. "Scusa." Gilbert apologised.

"Nessun problema." The man replied. He had dark brown hair, almost brunette, and grew stubble. He seemed to be in his late twenties.

"Avete visto un giovane con una sciarpa bianca?"

Have you seen a young man with a white scarf? Gilbert asked in broken Italian.

"Does he have brown hair?" The man answered in English. He apparently recognised the Prussian's German accent. Gilbert was glad the man was aware that most Germans were quite capable of English.

"Yes. He also has a weird strand of curl sticking out the side."

"Yeah, I saw him. He can't be that far." The man rotated and motioned Gilbert to follow him.

"You'd do that? Thanks." Gilbert smiled. He knew it, Italians were so nice! But what he did not know was where the man was guiding him to.

Gilbert froze in the dirty alleyway with appal. Snickering men drew a circle surrounding him against the brick wall, spinning guns in boast.

"You have quite a fair face, don't you beautiful?" The man with the dark brown stubble jabbed his weapon below the Prussian's jaw. He started to stroke Gilbert's waist whilst sliding the cylinder of the gun up his left cheek.

'He can't be that far' my ass! Gilbert sighed deeply. Why didn't he notice this earlier?

"What are you, gay?" Gilbert endured shards of glass digging into his flesh as he was knocked down on the ground. Thick dust rose and clouded as he breathed out. What a bother.

"I was originally just going to strip you of objects of any value and dump you here, but I have another idea now." The man with the stubble prodded the albino's face with his foot, snickering as he scanned around to observe his friends' reactions. The others smirked in approval. "I think we should teach him a lesson."

What a cliché. Gilbert rolled his garnet eyes.

"Does any of you have a camera in hand? It'd be great to see this guy being pasted in a porno site." The man crouched down beside Gilbert, gripping the bottom of his T-shirt and rolling it up above his pale chest.

Black mailing, huh? Gilbert chuckled. Now this was getting interesting. He was calm. He was hundred percent sure he could beat the crap out of this twat and his friends the moment he tried to stick his disgusting hands into his pants. Gilbert was just in a mood to let the fish swim in the bowl for another couple of minutes before he drained the water down the sink.

The instant the man laid a hand on Gilbert's skin, an icy voice cut through the alleyway like a knife.

"What are you doing?"

Gilbert and his attackers all veered their heads toward the opening of the alley to discover a boy coolly looking down at them.

"Having fun with my lover I see." He slowly walked forward, his brown hair swaying in the spring breeze. A single strand of hair stuck out in a curl, bouncing in the rhythm of his footsteps.

"Hey kid, this is none of your business." One of the thugs surrounding Gilbert and his attempted rapist spoke confidently.

"Shut your mouth." Feliciano flung off. "Take your filthy hands off him." He growled. "This is the only warning you get."

"Wow, wow, kid! You think you stand a chance against us?" The man with the stubble sniggered then snapped his fingers, ordering the men to capture the intruder. A man with a metal baseball bat charged forward, aiming his weapon right towards Feliciano's skull.

"No!" Gilbert gasped in horror. But instead of a crack mentioning a broken skull, all the brick walls offered to echo was a dull thud. The punk dropped on the floor, clutching his stomach. The bat rolled off into a distance, clanging away like a piece of junk.

"I guess Ludwig's training wasn't entirely a waste." Feliciano smiled sweetly.

Gilbert dug his fist against the man who still had his hand on his chest. He spun down as Gilbert jumped up and kicked his jaw upwards.

"I wish I had my combat boots on. You're lucky I chose to wear chucks today." Gilbert laughed, enjoying himself now. He wiped off the blood trickling down from his corner of his lips then set off to deliver a one way ticket to hell to the others.

"Gil, you have a lot of explaining to do after this." Feliciano pouted. He was already having the third one crashing down in front of him.

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Five minutes later Gilbert and Feliciano sat down on the dirty alleyway scattered with knocked out punks.

"This jerk claimed he saw you after I lost sight of you." Gilbert pointed the man with the dark brown hair with his thumb.

"You mean after you wandered off." Feliciano corrected.

"…What ever… Anyway, I got cocky and they decided to rape me. That's ok though, I was going to beat them up anyway before they did."

"It's not Okay!" Feliciano held the Prussian's shoulders against the wall. His schokolade eyes projected anger and sorrow. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?" He scolded the albino, gripping his shoulders tightly. "What if they drugged you? What if there were more of these guys? What if… what if…" Feliciano drooped his head. "What if they had really raped you…?"

"Feli-chan…" Gilbert reflected his actions. How could he be so selfish?

"I'm the only one who's allowed to rape you!" Feliciano exclaimed.

"Oi!" Gilbert took his words back. What was this angel saying?

"I'm not saying it's entirely your fault, but you could have at least prevented him from touching you!" Feliciano leaned forward and sealed the albino's lips.

"Felicia…mm!" Gilbert resisted, fighting hard not to give in as he was well aware of what the Latino was capable of.

Not impressed by his lover's actions, Feliciano untangled their kiss and licked his upper lip. "You better be prepared for tonight." He helped the Prussian up on his feet, sending a devious smile to his blushing lover. The two left the pile of unconscious thugs lying around in the deserted alley and walked off into the morbid crowd of window shoppers in the Saturday market. "I have to disinfect the all places he touched you."

So loving,

So caring,

So merciless!


	6. Saturday's Child

**YAOI. FRITZ X PRUSSIA.**

(AN- update since over half an year ago! hahahaha... The quality of the story may be degraded since I'm still in writing rehab LOL. There's only one other chapter to go and that'll be up soon hopefully since I have an idea for a new short story.)

Chapter Six: Saturday's Child Works Hard for a Living

"Fritz! Fritz!" A voice overflowing with love pierced through the concrete wall of concentration the king was reluctantly maintaining. Friederich sighed as he rested his quill on the wooden desk. Here comes the ultimate distraction. He abandoned his future to be cradled by fate. The office door broke open as the king's child forcefully made a dramatic entrance, complete with a proud smirk.

"Do be careful of the doors, Mein Preussen." Friederich scolded his nation softly, as he was well aware that his reckless knight had no ear to accept his love's distressed yell.

"Es tut mir leid" Gilbert apologised with not even a shard of regret in his tone. The king chuckled, twisting the ink bottle lid secure. There was an eighty percent chance of having the contents bruising the documents black with Prussia in the presence.

"What brings you here Mein Liebling?"

Gilbert's eyes squeezed in crescent, saturated affection dribbling out of the two garnet gems. "To see you, to touch you, to hear your voice!" He answered. How simple, how under decorated, how blindly truthful! Friederich could not help but to forgive this adorable subordinate for interrupting his work.

"Is that so? Then what are you waiting for?" He spread his arms in a welcoming manner, his eyes glued to the albino dashing towards him, eyes radiating in bliss. To the king's wise prediction, Gilbert did not bother to take the long route around the table like a normal person. He jumped up on it instead and dived right into the king while his combat boots knocked down the ink bottle in the way. Friederich's Prussia Forecast had yet again struck the bull's eye. "Much to my appreciation of your unexpected visit Gilbert, I was in fact working." Caressing the platinum blonde hair the king questioned his purring nation.

"I know." Gilbert grinned. "Awesome like a little bird I am, I came to award my hardworking king a break." He declared with full of authority. He was, in any case the almighty Preussen.

Friederich on the other hand erupted into laughter. Although a nation has his decisions over many matters, it was ultimately his king who had the high card. The boss of a nation had an absolute reign over its kingdom. In other words, Prussia had no right in ordering Friederich officially. However this was not a formal occasion and so Friederich accepted his gift with a little peck on the albino's eyelid as a thank you.

"That tickles!" Gilbert flinched, returning the kiss as a cheeky revenge. "I know!" Gilbert hopped off Friederich's lap on to the desk. "I'll brew you a cup of tea!" And before the king had any chance to mouth his opinion, his knight swiftly landed on the intricate carpet and was out the entrance, almost smashing down the doors again. The king was left in his office chair, bewildered by Gilbert's rapid switches of action as usual. Re-erecting the toppled ink bottle, he smiled quietly to himself. Being raised by his abusive and far from understanding father, he now fully embraced the joy and happiness of putting effort and work for the sake of the one whom he truly loved.


	7. Sunday's Child

**WARNING - YAOI. GERMANCEST. GERMANY X PRUSSIA**

AN/- It's FINISHED! The whole series! I can't believe it took so long ;_;I hope you enjoyed it.

Mein Liebling - My love

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7. But the child born on the Sabbath Day, is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

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"I'm back." He'd used to say, loud and firm to let little Ludwig know that his beloved brother was home from the battle field. The to-be-king would throw his book, slam his pen, and even abandon his little Knut to tumble down the spiral stair case and hug his hero.

"Welcome back, Burder!" Ludwig gifted a kiss on Gilbert's eyelid, catching a whiff of gunpowder and mud. No scent of blood today, he sighed in relief.

"Mein Liebling. I hope you didn't miss me too much." Gilbert chuckled and replied a kiss on Ludwig's forehead before plopping him down on the marble tiles. The little hand reached toward the large, -which was covered in scratches and blisters- and the siblings walked the hallway holding hands. From below, his older brother was strong and victorious, proud but gentle.

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"I'm back." The older brother smiled weakly, his face riddled in fatigue. His once glorious blonde had bleached to titanium white, lush azure eyes reduced to the ironic colour of blood. He had lost weight. Nay, that is an understatement. It was as if someone had come and tore off flesh from him, leaving just enough for the tortured soul to mouth prayers as he conjured images of his little brother in his mind, aiding him to barely keep his sanity. His skin had washed out pale, ghastly if one had to describe.

Even to this horrifying change, too drastic to even imagine what he had gone through, Gilbert still plastered a crescent moon, a genuine smile. He was glad to be back. So, so, glad!

Ludwig on the other hand was statue solid; one half of him soaring to heaven with happiness, to finally, lastly have his dear brother back. The other sinking beneath the wooden floor with devastating sadness of the blinding truth of what his beloved had to endure for forty years.

_Forty years. _

Ludwig stood stupidly, just staring at his older brother in front of him. Oh how he wished this day would come, _every single day_ since forty years ago. He dreamt of suffocating Gilbert with hugs, drowning him in kisses, deafening him with love words. But he just stood. He reached for his brother but his muscles just wouldn't budge. He opened his mouth to call his name but his lungs refused to cooperate. He never cursed himself like today. 

Gilbert gave a thoughtful glance to his mute, spellbound brother then chuckled softly to himself. It was time to utilise his best talent, to free the poor German from decades of waiting, just waiting. Gilbert positioned his left hand on his hip, split his lips into a wide cheeky grin then flipped his hair with his right hand.

"Don't I suite platinum blonde? The Awesome me is even more beautiful!"

The spell was broken.

Ludwig tackled Gilbert to the ground, scooping him firm so he wouldn't hit the floor. Squeezing him tight, Ludwig showered his brother in kisses, causing Gilbert to squirm.

"West! That tickles! You're also killing me."

The sibling rolled around on the floor, laughing and crying, hugging and kissing. What a sight to see, two grown men tangling like kittens. But they didn't give a damn. They were happy. And that was all that they cared.


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